Cursed Melody
by Numb Virus
Summary: Kamui Gakupo's voice could guide the dead, linking him to roaming souls. However, his spirit came to wither with his brother's last breath. As an irregularity, someone who should've never been born, the only purpose left for him to pursue is a mere confrontation with the one behind it all.
1. Brother's oath

**First time writing for the Vocaloid fandom (don't shoot,** **I'm bulletproof.** **Though, constructive criticism is always welcomed! Help a newbie? x)). Gakupo's my favorite and I've always found Gackt's claims to see ghosts… interesting. So that kinda gave birth to this.**

 **Disclaim:** **all the Vocaloids featured in this fic belong to their respective owners/makers. I only borrow their awesomeness.**

* * *

" _Instinctively people fear any possible irregularity, anything that sets one person apart from another in a way so apparently drastic that individual A no longer views individual B as a fellow human being with equal rights and duties but a mere divergence within humanity's complicated data system; like some sort of virus which ought to be eradicated or better yet twisted and remodeled into an obedient subordinate bound to oblige to the higher-ups' commands."_

It's only natural, those moving the chess pieces say. Ranking, judging, ruling so as not to be ruled it was all programmed into peoples' mentalities. The merciless chase after ultimate dominance fed by stereotypes and oppressing insecurities; it's either crush or be crushed, such a jungle-like law.

Whether breaking down sophisticated war schemes set by the modern world's rulers to subtly alter billions of citizens' lives without the poor pawns even noticing the invisible strings leading them on into their miserable monochromic lives or merely dealing with a local small town high school bully beating to a pulp some unlucky freak who just didn't fit popularity's criteria, elites were sure to rise and grasp leadership upon the least fit.

It was necessary for people were both terrified from and drawn to utter chaos, the abolishment of all codes that would easily turn the world as we know it into a dreadful living hell progressively chewing it apart down darkened pits. Lawless communities were noting more than mad baboonish savages and even then, when the public were left to follow their free whims the ranking procedure would still go on, morphing into a crueler only-the-strong-left-standing survival system. For those reasons and numerous others, leaders were essential.

A capable charismatic few could attract the lost masses in a similar fashion to how moths linger fluttering toward warm deadly light. They had the power but most of all the responsibility to ascertain the appropriate grounds for a suitable "reality" where the unbreakable circle of ruling and being ruled would sustain a stable pace, thus reinforcing the world's basic laws that not only maintain mankind's fragile balance but also define the rather metaphoric line which separates the concrete possible from the make-believe impossible.

Social intricacies, laws, everyday struggles, the unsure cadence carrying the boring slideshow-like routine that conserved the rather fragile earthly peace. Theoretically, It would've all been…convenient. Not quite perfect but anyone who claimed even a tad bit of wisdom would know that perfection was merely an inaccessible fabrication, life was never perfect. However, convenience had always been slightly more flexible; if only the theory hadn't been so flat.

Some had arose, those left to rot from the inside out. Code-breakers, normal people going out of the paths they had been born to follow. A small lie, a gruesome crime, eccentric hearts, bad apples, freedom chasers, everyone on their different scales poked the fair daylight façade endorsing the convenient world formed to serve humanity's best interests. For money, status, friendship, love, science, vengeance, selfishness and whatever else there was for them to purchase, those who hadn't been able to successfully blend in found their greatest quest in going against the common flow.

As if their angry ungratified and usually desperate gestures could change destiny or even the cored nature that united all living beings. It didn't and never will. Rebels were a predictable outcome to any organism. A riot could either fail or succeed, in the later case it would only result in building new governments, legislating new laws only for the play to eventually start all over again.

Revolt was normal and in no way frizzed reality's given theory. Those who did prove it to be vain were the ones standing on the edge which separated materiality from a concomitant hidden universe. They were the ones whose mere existence made the impossible quite simply possible.

* * *

" _You shouldn't have been born; you should've never seen the light! You're a cursed child just like my mother before you… you'll only bring misery to my son's family, why not die and join your imaginary friends? Something as ugly as you isn't worth the oxygen you breathe…"_

Breathe…breathe…"Come on Gakupo, breathe!"

Electric blue eyes clearer than crystal topaz gemstones shot open to meet darker worried ones. The child- Gakupo, looked barely six years old, six and a half he would argue. Straitening himself, his tiny fists clutched desperately to his chest crumpling his eggplants-patterned Pyjs' half-buttoned top. His heart jumped to a critical beat as if ready to blow out of his ribcage at any given moment. Lucent watery droplets slid down his puffy rosy cheeks; all he could see was blood. All he could hear were his grandfather's harsh words, "You shouldn't have been born; you should've never seen the light!"

He was drowning in tick sticky crimson liquid, feeling it submerge his senses; tickle his taste buds with its sickening copper tang, he wanted to throw up. His lungs heaved; so much hatred, it was suffocating.

A weight dropped to his side; young yet strong arms wrapping around his shaking frame.

"Hey, it's okay. Don't cry otoutou. I'm here, you're safe".

Nodding dumbly, he buried his face into his brother's chest, silently sobbing an odd mixture of frustration, fear and pain out while a small hand repeatedly made its way up and down his back generating a much needed comforting heat. His muscles loosened, shoulders slumping as the sobs escaping his lips finally came to a halt. It's safe. He was home with a brother who'd protect him from those bad guys in his mind. There was nothing to be afraid of, his oniichan was a brave and powerful samurai after all; he wouldn't let him drawn.

After a moment he attempted to pull away, suddenly very self-conscious of the snot and tears drenching the other boy's expensive nightwear, only for caring arms to tighten their hold around his thin body binding him into the soothing embrace; though he couldn't complain.

"It was another one of those nightmares, right?" the question's tone was pained, slightly frustrated. This situation had only happened so many times.

Nodding once more, he tiled his head upward trying his best to see beyond the smooth lavender bangs blurring his vision. Long silky tresses a shade lighter than his, darker blue eyes which lacked his owns' unnatural soft glow, it was all there yet his brother's usually disdainful I-don't-need-anybody expression was twisted with concern, pearly teethes biting on his lower lip as the one year older Kamui cursed his inability to rescue his only sibling from those night terrors plumbing his sleep.

" K-Kagura-nii… I-I…" Kagura forced a smile to grace his lips, trying at all coasts to cheer his little brother up after such a start; though smiling had never been a hobby of his; especially not after waking up to his otoutou nearly choking less than a meter away from him…again.

"I…wet the bed." Gakupo gulped a lump in his throat, head lowered in utter shame. His mother had said he was a big boy, big boys weren't supposed to wet their beds. That kind of 'accidents' was for babies only. No wonder he was such a lousy samurai whenever he and Kagura played duel, not that he ever dreamed of beating his aniki. That would be like wishing to finger the far glittering stars. Really, the kids in their neighborhood were right; he was such a stupid goofy girly-looking weirdo.

He sniffled threatening to burst into a renewed fit of tears when Kagura playfully ruffled his soft purple bangs, gaining his full attention back.

"We'll just have to share mine for the rest of the night then." smiling kindly he hopped out of his younger sibling's wet sheets, skipping toward their over-sized collective wardrobe; disappearing inside it only to reappear with a fresh clean set of pajamas which he casually tossed beside the still sniffing Gakupo. "Get changed and don't cry anymore, K? You look like a big snotty humanized eggplant; it's creepy." he laughed lightly at his interlocutor's pout.

"I can't believe you called eggplants creepy," the darker-purple-haired toddler sulked bringing his knees underneath his chin. How could his big brother insult their favorite food out of everything else? Eggplants weren't creepy, they were a delicacy! Much better of a treat to the palate than all those sophisticated dishes the Kamui's private chef purred his heart and soul into making anyway.

"I didn't call eggplants creepy, I called you creepy! Learn to take a joke otouto!" Kagura burst pointing an accusing finger toward the now panicking Gakupo. "shhh, you'll wake everybody up!"

Rolling his eyes at the pleading whisper, Kagura sighed feeling his annoyance gradually bubble up. It wasn't like their parents -or anyone at that- could actually hear them. Even if it was a little past three in the morning, no one would hear. Their rather spacious room was to the furthest of the ancestral estate's east wing; as far as possible from their grandfather's personal quarters.

Being a deeply traditional Japanese family, the Kamuis were very much attached to their conventional life-style and had genuine pride in their infamous samurai lineage. This was especially accurate concerning the family's head, Mr. Tamayashi Kamui, the boys' stoic never-satisfied parental grandfather who commanded respect both within and outside their household. He was by far one of the most brilliant names of Japan's high society and was even a dear friend of the emperor. All around his name echoed, a dignified man who saved his family from bankruptcy by creating one of the world's biggest and wealthiest technological development corporations which was somewhat ironic considering he barely allowed any modern device anywhere within his stuck-in-time realm.

At that fact, it was no unordinary occurrence for people strolling by the Kamuis' residence to pause their schedules only to stare in awe at the huge intimidating structure. The usually-opened main gate reached high into the sky and appeared to belong to some ancient shrine rather than a mansion in the middle of Tokyo. Behind it koi ponds, verandas, multiple different-sized buildings linked as if to form an impenetrable maze and magnificent cherry trees painted a breathtaking panorama morphing with each passing season. It would've looked abandoned, a ghost town from a dead era, if it weren't for the young longhaired men regularly practicing their swordsmanship like true warriors guarding the habitants, prying any curious eyes who'd try to roam a bit too far into their masters' privacy. The public had never met any member of the Kamui family; they were barely even spotted on TV.

Kagura sighed; just like his father he hated this damn golden prison. However, he despised his grandfather the most. He was cruel to Gakupo and treated him like trash whilst pampering his older grandson like some kind of royalty. It made him feel guilty. No matter how disobedient he was or how rude he'd get, he would still get a pat on the head when Gakupo was yelled at and verbally abused for no reason. It was neither fair nor logical. He was the trouble-maker, the rebel while his otoutou was so heartbreakingly polite, following the rules to the letter, never complaining… not even when he was exiled to the east wing. So why, just why did his cute goofy little brother had to suffer being tossed around like this?

Of course, the answer was simple. Gakupo wasn't normal; normal people couldn't see the dead or re-experience others' final moments throughout visions and dreams. His brother's existence was an irregularity.

Why was Gakupo different? Why did it even matter? He had no idea. Nevertheless, he wasn't about to leave him alone. Not now, not in a million years. Whether exiled in a deserted part of their lonesome home or to the end of the earth, he'd stick beside him, forever. As a good big brother that was his greatest duty, to stand up for his baby bro.

" Kagura-nii…Kagura-nii, anyone in there?~"

Blinking at the hand waving in front of him, his cheeks flushed; spacing out was his brother's thing not his. "Y-Yeah…"

Gakupo beamed, all changed into neat wears. "I'm done, let's sleep; It's already hours past our curfew, you know?"

How could he not?

Without further words spoken Kagura plumped under his bed's warm covers patting the spot next to him for Gakupo to join which he did a bit too enthusiastically, only sparing a single last frown down his stained mattresses.

The boys lay on their sides silently staring into each other's eyes as they began to doze back into dreamland. Gakupo yawned, eyelashes fluttering as if to resist slumber's irresistible call. It wasn't that he feared going back to sleep, he knew no atrocious sights would ruin what was left of his night as long as Kagura was at his side. His oniisan's presence seemed to instantly appease the voices reaching out, groaning in agony as they cramped his consciousness. It was the reason why Kagura joined him into his exile though he didn't have to and for that, he was extremely grateful. Some of the voices were nice, they wanted him to sing goodbye songs for them but he couldn't imagine being left alone with them twenty-four seven.

Still, he was kind of anxious; a question –that would most likely irritate his brother- burned the tip of his tongue. "Oniichan?"

Shoving his face into the soft pillow the seven years old grunted a muffled "what?" desperate to finally rest. At times, Gakupo's inquiring nature really got to his nerves; three forty-five am was one of those peculiar moments.

"Do you think what grandpa said was true? I mean if the kids at our school knew about what I am then they'd hate me a lot more, right?"

Gakupo bit the inside of his cheeks both eager and afraid of the answer coming ahead. His classmates -particularly Shion Kaito and his crew- in the prestigious private school his father assured would be a good place to make some friends, didn't like him that much. They'd pull his ponytail, call him names, steel his cloths during swim class then snicker asking him to come out naked so as to make sure he was a boy and not in fact a girl. They enjoyed humiliating him when Kagura wasn't around since none had the guts to bully him whilst their cool senpai was watching. Kagura was a born leader, popular and charismatic, being related to him was Gakupo's biggest pride. It was even more awesome than having samurai blood pumping through his veins.

Not bothering to glance up, the before mentioned leader brought the warm sheets over his shoulders tiered as if he'd been running a marathon. "Don't listen to the old frog, K?"

"Don't call grandpa a frog; He's family!"

"Whatever, and don't bother with those stuck up brats; I won't allow any of them to bully you any longer, I swear on bushi honor." To think he only took interest in samurai culture to impress his bushi-obsessed otoutou, since when did he start swearing on their honor? That sounded like something their grandfather would say if he ever went woozy and all his teeth fell out. He shuddered at the unappealing mental image praying it wouldn't keep him from rejoicing his nap. "Can we sleep now?"

"Yeah, thank you aniki."

Gakupo allowed his eyelids to slowly skim close, shyly taking Kagura's hand into his own. It wasn't being bullied he feared. A lot of children were bullied and the majority of his visitors had been put through much worst during their lifetime. Bullying was unfortunately 'natural'. What haunted him was the thought that He didn't know what to expect if his bullies ever realized he wasn't.

A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips; he felt so warm. As long as his big brother was with him he could really care less what everyone else thought of him.

"Good night."

Life was beautiful.

* * *

 **Eleven and a half years later_/Tokyo international airport_/15:56 PM/.**

* * *

Ringtones blaring randomly among the ant-like gushing to and fro crowds, children screaming atop their lungs demanding their parents' attention while the miserable adults had nervous breakdowns trying to deal with the exhausting paperwork procedures, attendants roaming around the organized chaos, speakers booming announcing the next flight to take off or plane to touch land, alleys and numbers; relatives, friends and lovers happily reuniting, hugging and kissing along with all those little sounds that wouldn't usually stand out but when added to the mess could compete a good old Chinese water torture session.

A busy airport was definitely hell. Or at least, so thought Lily as she checked her golden wrist-watch for what felt like the hundredth time in the past two hours.

Her fists balled regaining the sides of her hips, an annoyed expression plastered on her pretty visage. She flicked her long gold-colored locks over her left shoulder briefly straightening her clothes, making sure her abundant accessories were all in place. "It's already been two hours; does this guy plan on showing up or what? I have better things to do than waiting here for him all day."

"Better than meeting a cousin you haven't seen in nearly six years?" curiously inquired the green-haired emerald-eyed girl standing cheerfully at her right looking stunning in her plain orange summer-dress which happened to end just above her scratched knees. Gumi had managed to stumble on a piece of luggage -which, as she insisted, had appeared out of the blue- and injure herself after less than a minute within the airport's grounds.

Lily smirked winking at her cousin and friend. "Yup, I'm a busy person Gumi-chan'".

The couple of them had been sent to welcome their cousin, Kamui Gakupo, home after he'd been living abroad for several years. Well, Lily was asked –more like forced- to go. As for Gumi, she instinctively volunteered to tag along; far too excited to stay foot while her tsundare cousin got all the fun.

Lily was glad for her presence, though. Kamui had always been bizarre and she –like many kids back then- used to enjoy teasing and pulling pranks on him when they were younger. Not that she was proud of it. Anyway, point is, Gumi welcoming him might be… preferable. She had always been closer to the Kamui siblings and could as well be considered his baby sister; not a mean girl who'd scare the living daylight out of him.

Now that she remembered, he was quite the scaredy-cat. Abruptly crying or screaming at nothing as if he was frightened of his own shadow. Was he still the same?

"Aren't you excited to see how he looks like?" she shook her head "No" but that wasn't wholly truthful. The boy used to have an incredibly beautiful face, more beautiful than any of the girls around him. It was –as cliché as it may sound- angelic and awfully androgynous which continued to polish his reputation as a suitable target. The sole person who stood against him turning into a public punching-bag was Kagura; at least until _it_ happened.

Gumi tilted her head downward exhaling softly, brows furrowing in uncharacteristic seriousness. "You think he got over it?"

The blonde flicked her eyes shot scratching her neck in perceptible contemplation. "The kidnapping, Kagura's murder, his mother's suicide, everything… I don't know; didn't the rumors say he went completely crazy or something?"

"Never mind, we'll soon find out. If he ever does show up…"

As if on cue a harmonious voice called out above the moving swarm of travelers going about. "Gakupo! Here, I found them!"

Seconds later a blond strikingly handsome crimson-eyed guy ran toward the dumbstruck pair, stroller case in hand. He stopped before the two flashing a warm friendly grin -that Lily was sure could probably give any girl a lethal heart-attack. Well, any girl except herself and Gumi since neither of them was having a seizure at the moment - then courteously planted a kiss atop each of their left hands.

"I'm Yohioloid, your cousin's best friend. Can't wait to get to know you girls." he winked at their flustered faces then spun around waving his arms around in all directions. The guy sure attracted a lot of attention; Lily pointlessly noted finding it hard to utter a word.

"Oi, Gakupo! Come on, I'm ageing here man!"

Even when yelling his voice remained voluptuous, fascinating.

"Could you be a bit quieter?" a deep alluring voice mumbled sounding utterly bored by his companion's bright demeanor. "My head's killing me."

Lily's eyes widened to the size of extra-large dinner plates forgetting the handsome foreigner to focus on the perfectly built, remarkably tall young man leisurely walking up to the trio. His smooth silky lavender hair was held in a high pony-tail swinging at his steps' tempo just above knee level. His eyes were a glowing topaz, almost translucent, dead. He gave her the chills, not in a positive way though.

'Impossible!' her mind screamed.

His lips curved upward at the sight of them. "Long time no see."

"Ga-Gakupo?" the blonde taunted starting to doubt her own vision.

"Oniisan!"

The next thing they knew, Gumi tackled the boy into a bear hug knocking the air out of him, attracting random passerbyers intrigued gazes upon the four teens; although she didn't seem too bothered by it.

Lily massaged her temples managing to get over her initial shock whilst Yohiloid chuckled at his buddy's slightly flushing face.

The cursed child was back.

* * *

 **Reviews would be greatly appreciated since I'm not sure where this is heading exactly but I never get any so…yeah, I'll be taking my leave.**


	2. The enemy's coming

**Many thanks to Logan's mum and OrbOfImagination for reviewing, it really made me smile. :)**

 **Sorry for the late update, by the way. Been busy being lazy…**

 **Disclaim:** **This fic's characters (Vocaloids, Utauloid, etc) belong to their respective owners/makers. I do, however, own the story plot and coverart.**

* * *

Yohioloid slowly slid his fingertips across the polished tailgates trunk lid and down the gray and dim red left tail light, caressing the engine the way a father would barley finger his firstborn's baby skull. Stepping back, a smirk played over his lips as he took in the full sight of the auto jewelry piece laying bared to his ruby eyes' appreciative delight.

A splendid four-seat convertible was parked at the airport's exit, bragging its swift, voluptuous lines and urban-sport design. Its body was a brilliant golden yellow that, he guessed, must've been the result of a professional multi-layer paint process for it to so charmingly reflect daylight. Two vertical black straps drew the middle of its hood, matching its black sunroof, grilles and bumpers. The gunmetal rims were spotless and he just knew those four 20-inch alloy tires could take him fast whizzing like a bullet through plain air.

Not the most awe-educing vehicle he'd seen but definitely enough to trill the 'connoisseur' within him.

"Nice ride," he complimented, turning to the three cousins standing patiently behind his back, that eager smirk remaining plastered on his handsome face. His right hand was comfortably placed over the closed car trunk whilst the other loosely held his silver carry-on's handle. Spring's tepid sunshine playfully shaded his light lengthy blond bangs a heavenly platinum-gold, a dreamy aura radiating his being. Thankfully though, there were no sparkles glinting around his frame like in those fantasy-selling Shoujo manga; that would've been perturbing.

Walking past the foreigner and towards the driver's seat, Lily inwardly cocked an eyebrow at him. "Thanks," she cautiously replied. "Mum got it out of her second divorce."

With a flick of her wrist, she pressed a button on her car keys and the trunk flew open, allowing him to put his -rather small- stroller briefcase in. Surprisingly, it was his only luggage.

The boy, who'd already said he'd prefer if they called him "Hio", gave her his best irresistible grin, the kind that was sure to be followed by a not-so-irresistible request."Can I have a go?"

"No."

Her bluntness obviously disappointed him yet, accepting refusal, his smile didn't waver. Lily wondered if it was a permanent tattoo of some sort; it even _looked_ genuine _,_ which was rare amongst her crowd. It almost, _almost_ made her feel guilty. Just a tad remorseful for how her answer came out so rudely, nonetheless, she quickly suppressed it. She was the type of intransigent gals to never change their minds. It was, as far as she was concerned, absolutely ridiculous to make a decision only to take it back a second later.

Moreover, he didn't have a driver's license. Now, if one was to prickly dig into details, neither did she; she was only seventeen after all, same as him and her long-lost newly-found cousin. But that was inconsequential; she'd been driving ever since her fifteenth birthday, in order to avoid having a stoic driver/bodyguard observing her every move behind a pair of unnecessary black sunglasses like those tough, silent machos in blockbuster movies. A driver's license would merely be an extra accessory to add to her collection. Besides, if she was to get arrested –which was unlikely-, her dear mother would simply bail her out. No one cared enough to make a big deal out of it.

As the daughter of a famous TV host, the media had no peculiar interest in her daily misadventures. She wasn't a scoop-maker, just a pale unwanted copy left to decay in her mummy's glorious shadow.

At times, when bitterness and adolescence kicked in, she'd think what a bunch of morons they all were; couldn't they see her? She tried so darn hard to earn their attention. Doing a good deal of wrong to look right, a hackneyed but by no means clever method to brave rejection.

Karma must've actually meddled with destiny because the entire thing turned bad, her life was a mess.

Her wristwatch beeped, fanning her random musings as reality settled in. they were late, unfashionably late. She loathed breaking her own schedule. For a mortal such as herself, who had no faith in a world beyond the grave, the fleeting moment beginning with her birth and ending with her death, was all she had. A misused nanosecond was never to be recovered; she had to go fast or go to waste.

Rewarding herself with a well-deserved mental slap for spacing out, she directed ocean blue eyes toward her two cousins, hardly taken aback to see Gumi's arm hooking the boy's down like an anchor.

The sixteen years old green-head had a lovely beam on, the carrot-shaped hair clip holding her bangs to the side adding to her natural 'kawaii'-factor. Her slightly injured legs seemed tense, trying to root into the cemented ground as if fighting the urge to jump up and engage a short happy dance routine. Lily had rarely seen her so pepped. Gumi's typically brimful energy had been multiplied by ten the second Gakupo stepped into view.

No wonder. For more than half a decade, neither one of the two girls was able to see the tiniest glimpse of their shy cousin's strangely seraphic features. They weren't allowed to get in touch with him via phone, e-mail, Facebook, Twitter, Skype, snail mail, or any other existent mean of communication spamming the twenty-first century. Their respective parents would shush them without fail each time either asked about his whereabouts, as if he'd fallen into Hades' wicked clutches, everlastingly damned. For a while, his name's mere mention could break Mrs. Magpoid into tears, her defunct sister's and nephew's memory fresh in mind.

The purple-haired lad's hands were forever tied to a dreadful past so many wished to forget, to no use. Forgetting him, the grief and _that incident_ all together was a convenience those involved couldn't afford.

So, unwilling to let outsiders turn their grief into a news item, the boy's relatives categorically refused to watch news bulletin or read national journals for a trimester following the incident that had made the discrete Kamui clan Japan's prime talk. Regardless, the headlines effectively reached their earshot : "Kidnapping: A tragedy strikes the Kamui household, read all about it!", "The Kamui's Miburi enterprises' heir apparent, young Kagura-san's, corps found decapitated near Hayama's Isshiki beach, full reports.", "Mr. Tamayashi Kamui's comatose younger grandson: Doctors predict slim chances of recovery.", "The Miburi company's CEO: DISOWNED!", "Suicide rumors spreading concerning Mrs. Kamui's death, the family remains silent.", "Two months following Hayama's Isshiki beach tragedy, eleven years old Kamui Gakupo-san wakes up on his birthday!", "PTSD?, delusional psychosis?, amnesia? : The survivor's insane!"

Credits given, the press had done a remarkable job keeping track of their targets' movements. Those paparazzi were quite similar to snipers, in a sense. Only, they were louder, greedier, less heroic and more sadistic. They didn't _just_ fire off their weaponry, blowing their victims' skulls to smashed meat and shattered bones. Their methods consisted in feeding off of people's misery, like vultures biting on their prey's raw flesh till it crumble to its demise, allowing them to freely feast on its rotten remains.

Gumi had always been a curious girl, gossip and tabloids however, repulsed her.

" _The survivor's insane!"_

They didn't know them, all those snooping readers that passionately followed the event's course as they would a TV drama series, why did they invade their privacy then? They were humans, living beings with emotions; they could easily be hurt and had the right to processes their pain in peace. Was it 'entertaining' to see moneyed strangers break apart? How, by any mean, was it considered 'press freedom' to call an eleven of age boy, who had witnessed his brother's assassination then woke up after two month's worth of coma to find his mother dead, insane ?

Some empathized with the misfortunate child's condition, suggesting he gets proper mental assistance. Such a traumatizing experience could -justifiably- wreck anyone's sanity; especially when the culprit hadn't been caught and remained a possible threat lurking in the dark. That, Gumi indignantly thought, was bullshit.

Gakupo wasn't crazy. Despite the fact that she hadn't seen him ever since before the kidnapping, she knew he wasn't. What pseudo psychiatrists in white robes diagnosed couldn't matter less; they didn't know him the way she did.

When he and his disowned father went abroad to patch up their lives, she'd really thought their bridges had burnt. Her existence was a marvelous color palette that had been robbed of the mysterious purplish shade she attributed to her most beloved cousin, her spiritual big brother.

Having believed he was indeed sick, her parents weren't much help. Often, they would converse with his father over the phone or online, rarely filling her in on any bits of information other than the vague "Don't worry, you're cousin's doing just fine." Until one afternoon, uncle Kamui sent an e-mail saying his son had set on a world tour with a newly acquired friend. She could still see it, Her parents' shock had been priceless.

With hardly any words hastily typed on a tablet's tactile keyboard, Gakupo Kamui's image morphed from that of a psychologically unstable confined teenager to an adventurous dependable youth possessing enough social skills to have a real un-imaginary friend. It was honestly meaningless; he had decided to rove the world with a 'friend', nothing extraordinary. The thing is, it was _normal_ , crazed individuals didn't do 'normal', and so he must've been sane. He moved on, his relatives idly concluded.

Gumi didn't believe so. A bond as strong as that the Kamui siblings shared was unbreakable, Kagura was Gakupo's lifeline, no one could simply 'move on' after losing their guide-light to the abysses. Nonetheless, she kept her mouth locked. Everyone had finally realized what she'd been convinced of from the very beginning –her cousin wasn't insane.

That was a little more than two years ago, though. Now he was back, her arm was intertwined with his, she wasn't about to let go. No, she'd keep him near, safe forever like Kagura would've wanted. Because Gumi was truly, unbelievably, glad to finally see her oniisan again after six years of nonexistent contact.

Lily, per contra, wasn't as joyful. It was difficult to pinpoint but something about him and this friend of his felt fishy. A glint within his bright blade-sharp eyes -which she didn't recognize- inspired malice, danger. His return was nearly miraculous, be that as it may, those who suddenly leave their beloveds behind don't just randomly poof back into a place they so desperately tried to escape. She, of all people, would know.

"Won't you put that in?"The blonde asked pointing at the rectangular black portable case plunked over her _suspicious_ cousin's left shoulder. It looked like the type of instrument carrying-boxes aspiring rock musicians would drag along everywhere for the heck of sudden artistic inspiration. Except its proportion were off; the diameter was too thin while its length almost matched his legs', which was consequential taking into account the boy's impressive -though not exaggerated- height.

"Thanks, I'll just keep it with me if you don't mind." He spared her a small charming smile that somehow caused her stomach to lurch upside down. She'd never been kind to him, yet, he persisted on treating her as courteously as non-tackily possible. How annoying.

"Suit yourself."

The trunk lid automatically shut close. Lily took the steering wheel, opening the passenger seat's door for Gumi to join in. Although a bit unwillingly, the emerald-eyed buety eventually released her clutch on Gakupo's bicep making it easier for him and Yohioloid to hop into the synthetic-leather back seats with astonishing agility.

Frowning, Lily turned her luxurious car key till a click rang closely followed by the engine's satisfying roar. The clumsy cousin she once knew and bullied would've tripped over his own shoe laces; this guy was something else for sure. And she had to get him home.

The car finally zoomed out of Haneda airport (also known as Tokyo's international); the ride was fast, at first, but soon halted as the city's daily traffic interfered.

Haneda airfield was about fourteen kilometers south of Tokyo, their destination being Azabu, Tokyo's most expensive upscale residential district*, it should've taken merely a dozen minutes to get there. However, seeing as the highway was completely blocked, Lily feared her task would prove frustratingly time-consuming.

Exhaling, the blonde tapped her fingers over the motor vehicle's helm. The stereo beat to a mainstream song's rhythm, not exactly her style but enough to fill the void enveloping the awkwardly silent passengers.

Judging that they'd hold their spot for a while, she glanced in the rear-view mirror; Kamui had his fingers intertwined about the mystery case placed between his long legs, chin lamely resting over it. He looked bored, far roaming in a world of his own, eyelids halfway closed. Someone who'd been practically exiled out of his motherland should've showed some extent of excitement, interest, nostalgia. He just seemed to beg for a pillow.

'Maybe he's jetlagged…? Those bags beneath his eyes look pretty nasty, too.'

His travel companion on the other hand, Lily observed, looked rather content to be there. A pair of black and gold headphones was hanging around his neck while his gaze grazed the surrounding landscape, enjoying the seasonal breeze blowing his sun-kissed bangs astray. He had a long-sleeved dark insulated coat on over a silvery shirt, grey skinny jeans, a multitude of golden, black and silver bracelets lacing his wrists -much like herself- and blood-red baskets, nothing extravagant yet still more showy than the long oversized short-sleeved black T-shirt, fitting black jeans and purple sneakers her cousin was clad in. Neither of them would've stood out if it wasn't for their exotic hairstyles and strikingly appealing facial structures.

"So, Hio-san," she began keeping her tone cool and detached. "You're into sport cars?"

Realizing the girl was talking to him, Yohioloid perked up, grinning. "Not particularly. My dad had an awesome collection; antics, special edition models and all that jazz, you know. I kinda inherited his addiction."

Lily nodded, not wanting to ask why he used the past tense to refer to his father. So much for starting a conversation, she thought.

Unbuckling her seatbelt, Gumi turned around. "Are you guys together, as in romantically together?"

Both boys stared, blinking simultaneously before Yohioloid erupted in a fit of melodious laughter. Her grass green eyes were filled with innocent curiosity which only made it funnier and –for some reason- unbearable for him to contain his amusement.

Asking the most intimate questions first was Gumi's definition of breaking the ice. It was a bad –kind of rude- habit she refused to abandon despite Lily ranting about how it only brought her interlocutors discomfort. Though, in this context, it was hardly impolite to wonder. Back in the days, she and the Kamui siblings had no secrets among their little trio. If her oniisan was involved in a relationship, she needed to know.

With a slightly irritated sigh, Gakupo straightened, harshly nudging his best buddy out of his unfounded laughter. "No Gumi-chan, we're just friends."

"' _Just friends',_ you bastard, is that what our relationship means to you?" Yohioloid chuckled lightly, chest heaving after his short-lived outbreak. "We're brothers by blood!"

Hooking his arm around the lavender-haired boy's neck, his lips curved upward forming a wide crescent, apparently happy to choke his so called 'brother by blood' to death. "Gaku-kun and I are comrades; we'd walk through hell and back together. As for romance, I don't really swing that way and even if I did, I wouldn't date him…" he paused, biting his bottom lip as if to swallow the snicker bubbling up his throat. "I mean, I'm sorry but your cousin isn't exactly a catch."

"Cause you are?" Struggling free, Gakupo composedly ran a hand through his messed up bangs, half-glaring at his blond companion, though not appearing particularly angered by his behavior. "Your eyes give me nausea."

"Not my problem you hate red." With a shrug and a sigh, the brief argument settled as abruptly as it had arisen leaving a couple of ladies gazing, perplexed, at the two weird fellows.

Mumbling a tongue-tied "OK", Lily lightly pressed the accelerators with her foot, cerulean eyes locked on the road. The traffic had cleared; alas, amidst her confusion, she hadn't heard the impatient honks urging her to drive and was struggling against the temptation to scream F-bombs at the hurried drivers lining like an orchestra behind her."Buckle up Gumi-chan."

"Oh. Yeah. Sorry." Abiding, Gumi smiled, features softening considerably.

'Brother's by blood, huh?'

She'd made an oath to work hard and be the best sister figure a guy could wish for. She wanted to ease her aniki's sorrows, be his safe haven, his shelter when destiny played tough on him; be the shoulder he'd cry on, repay all he did for her as a child and repent for how she'd been unable to help him after Kagura passed away.

He used to be painfully fragile, timid, stubborn, sheepish but most of all very much lonely even when not alone. She thought he'd need her but that wasn't the case. No point denying it, Gakupo had changed, she could feel it. He had a friend who knew the person he'd grown to be while they were apart. He wasn't a broken doll for her to fix anymore, but, at least, she had the chance to get to know the 'current' him, that was plenty enough to lift her spirits.

"Gaku-nii, I didn't know you hated red."

Gakupo scratched his nape afraid he had upset her. He knew, all too well, that Gumi didn't appreciate even the tiniest, silliest, of secrets. "It's just not my favorite color, nothing big."

Glancing behind, the greenette beamed at him, fists held high. "Still, we've got some catching up to do! We've all missed you aniki!" she clapped her hands together. "You've never met Ryuto-kun, but you'll see- my otoutou's the cutest kid ever!"

"The most annoying brat ever." Lily mumbled under her breath, low enough so that only she could hear.

"I'm sure you'll get along great!" Gumi chimed, bangs bouncing as she slammed her fists on her thighs in a gesture of pure determination.

"Of course, we will."

The stereo's music boomed louder, Gumi sang along, her mesmerizing voice suppressing the singer's own. Yohioloid and Lily were soon to join, lazily humming the chorus. Gakupo kept hushed, holding his black case closer to his torso. He glanced to his left side right when they drove next to a stop sign.

A man glowing in a ghostly aura locked glass eyes with his. One of his arms had been cut off; his garments were identical to those of a WW2 soldier. A heavy submachine gun lay in his trembling clutch, face covered in thick sweat and dirty mud making it tricky to guess his age. As far as the topaz-eyed youth could estimate, he was in his late twenties, twenty-seven, twenty-nine at best.

Terrified, the man held a shaking finger to his lips, shushing the already-silent boy. "Run. Hide. The enemy's coming!"

His scared stiff expression didn't vacillate when a cab ran throughout his body, blowing his essence to vaporous blue mist into Gakupo's impassive face; only for him to re-materialize a second later, staring at the teenager as if he was an alien.

"What are you doing here kid?!" the ghost screamed. "Run. Hide. The enemy's coming!"

* * *

 **Spare the starving auteur a review?**


End file.
